I went to the dry cleaner to pick up my husband's shirts and there on the front window was the ubiquitous sticker: "Like us on Facebook." But I was already standing at the shop door, and I am already a customer, so I don't bother. I wonder what I would get though if I did it.
Then I went to get some ice cream and there at the little window, while deciding between a small Moose Tracks sugar cone or maybe a medium Maine Maple cup with chocolate sprinkles, saving the calories on the cone and thus going for more of the ice cream, I spied it: "Like us on Facebook." I ask the clerk behind the counter what I'll get if I like her on Facebook and she shrugs and says, "I dunno, but we're out of chocolate sprinkles, how about rainbow?"
Well, once I too wanted to be liked on Facebook, back when I had a consignment shop. I counted the "likes" each day, and somehow the growing number was supposed to make my life better. It didn't. I still hated selling used furniture to old ladies and my business partner still made up words and told long pointless stories that drove me nuts.
Now I don't care if anyone "likes" me on Facebook, or anywhere else for that matter. What I hope for, strive for, each day when I wake up is that maybe, with enough patience and love and caring and motivation, and if I take my fish oil and do my exercise and meditation diligently, just maybe I can "like" myself. Who knows, maybe today's the day.
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